


Judgement Dawn

by ImpossibleClair



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers for Season 2, because shit went down, betty and veronica actually talk about what happened to them that night, established beronica, implied underage drinking?, set during 2x21
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 09:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpossibleClair/pseuds/ImpossibleClair
Summary: The sun hasn't yet risen on the town of Riverdale, changed forever in one deadly night. In the immediate aftermath of their brushes with death, Betty and Veronica seek the comfort of each other's arms.They don't know it, but the night isn't done with them yet...





	Judgement Dawn

Veronica’s phone buzzed on the table. She looked down at it, mind swimming as it struggled to connect what she was seeing to what she was supposed to do with it. Eventually her hand found the phone, swiped to take the call and held it to her ear. 

“Hello?”

“Ronnie, something happened.”

“Yeah… Here, too.”

She could almost see the change in Betty’s face, the squint of her eyebrow, tip of the head. 

“V? Are you okay?”

Veronica shook her head. Suddenly her chest was aching. Her dizzy mind was dragging her down.

“Betty, I need you.”

“I’m on my way.”

*

The lobby of The Pembrooke was empty, so Betty let herself into the elevator and up to the penthouse. The door was kicked in, lying on the ground under a layer of splinters and plaster dust. Her brain was too fried to register surprise. She just stepped cautiously over it and into the living room. 

Veronica was sitting at the table with her mother, who looked to have drunk half a bottle of wine. The glass in front of Veronica was only half empty. The youngest Lodge looked as pristine and flawless as ever, but when she turned her head – mechanically, like she’d forgotten how – there was a deep, harrowed look in her eyes. 

“Ronnie…” 

The world collapsed around Veronica. The hollow ache in her chest exploded; the floating fragments of her mind came crashing down. She flew into Betty’s arms, knees giving way as she grasped desperately at the pink lapels of her coat.

Betty stammered out something that was meant to be a question, but fell away into disjointed syllables. She wrapped her arms around Veronica, held her steady, even though she, too, was shaking. 

Hermione Lodge watched as Betty guided Veronica to the lounge, sitting and pulling her close. Veronica’s head found its usual place in the curve of Betty’s shoulder and neck, and she cried there until she had no tears left. 

Betty held Veronica, arms around her body, keeping her where she could hear her heartbeat. Everything she’d been juggling since the night began seemed to cast itself aside, making room for her to focus on Veronica. She was almost grateful, in a guilty way.

She nestled her hand in Veronica’s hair, kissed her forehead, rocked back and forth ever so gently. She heard someone come into the room, but they didn’t matter. Only Veronica mattered. The crying girl held tightly to Betty, sobbing quietly into her skin, taking in her warmth and her scent and everything she was and needing all of it. 

“I could’ve died, Betty,” she whispered. “He was going to kill me…”

She felt Betty’s sharp intake of breath. Her arms tightened, her hand stilled in Veronica’s hair. 

“Who?” 

“One of daddy’s enemies.” Veronica shuddered, and lowered her voice even further. “Mom shot him.”

Betty didn’t know what to say, so she gathered Veronica closer, as close as she could, and held her as tight as she dared. 

*

“I can’t believe your dad was the Black Hood.”

Betty and Veronica had moved to Veronica’s bedroom. The clean-up of the body in the study was finally in progress, and they wanted to be literally anywhere else, but the streets weren’t safe. The sun had yet to rise; Riverdale was still in darkness. 

Betty was taking her turn to cry. She lay on the covers of Veronica’s bed, head on her girlfriend’s chest and body curled against her side. Veronica had pulled her hair free of its ponytail, and was stroking the blonde tresses.

“I feel like I should have known,” Betty mumbled. “It makes so much sense, looking back. He knew exactly how to manipulate me. He knew about Polly and the twins, about you. That’s why he threatened you and had me cut ties with you first.”

“Hm.”

“I just… I wish I could change it all.”

Veronica kissed her head. 

“You couldn’t have changed anything, Betty. He was like this long before you came along. I’m just glad you got out alive.”

Betty shifted so her head lay next to Veronica’s. 

“I’m glad _you_ got out alive.” She lay her hand on Veronica’s cheek. “I could’ve lost you tonight.”

“I could’ve lost _you_.”

Veronica curled her arm around Betty’s shoulders, bringing their foreheads in to touch. There were tears in their eyes, and they spilled silently as they lay together, feeling deeply and painfully. 

Minutes later, hours maybe, a buzzing prompted them to separate. 

Betty answered her phone. 

“Archie, are you okay?”

“I’m fine Betty, but you’ve gotta get down here.”

Betty sat up. “What happened?”

Veronica sat up too, feeling the atmosphere change. 

“It’s bad, Betty.”

Veronica looked at her questioningly, and she started to shrug, then stopped, listening to Archie’s voice on the other end of the phone. 

“Okay,” she breathed. “We’re coming.”

She hung up, lowering the phone slowly. 

“What’s going on?” 

Betty met Veronica’s gaze, and for all they had both seen that night, nothing compared to the dread they saw mirrored in each other’s eyes. 

“We have to go,” Betty whispered. “It’s Jughead.”


End file.
